


By the letter

by anamia



Series: A wild space AU appears [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: (in - you guessed it - space!), (in space!), Alternate Universe - Space, Gen, IN SPACE!, Science, scientific exploration, scientific exploration in the face of repressive governments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 02:32:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10799862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anamia/pseuds/anamia
Summary: “So far you have collected 120 cases of black dirt, 115 vials of silver river liquid, 145 individual and unique leaves, a similar number of flowers, filled an entire sketchpad with bark rubbings, waxed lyrical about the shadows filtering through the leaves at least 6 times, threatened to never return to civilization more times than I care to count, and been accosted by 57 different varieties of flying creatures, 14 scurrying ones, and nearly eviscerated by a large predator . May I remind you that we have been on this planet for less than two hours?”Combeferre and Feuilly explore an alien world.





	By the letter

“So far you have collected 120 cases of black dirt, 115 vials of silver river liquid, 145 individual and unique leaves, a similar number of flowers, filled an entire sketchpad with bark rubbings, waxed lyrical about the shadows filtering through the leaves at least 6 times, threatened to never return to civilization more times than I care to count, and been accosted by 57 different varieties of flying creatures, 14 scurrying ones, and nearly eviscerated by a large predator . May I remind you that we have been on this planet for less than two hours?”

Combeferre, knee-deep in purpleish muck, twisted to raise both of his eyebrows at Feuilly, who stood several paces back from the muck with a datapad in one hand. “Did you have a point or were you simply making idle conversation?” he wanted to know.

“Merely listing facts,” Feuilly said. “As an additional fact, it might interest you to know that the actual purpose of our mission here is, in fact, to test air samples and seek intelligent life. Perhaps you might consider turning your attentions in that direction? Or have you discovered a new form of sentient mud that communicates via physical telepathy?”

Combeferre waved this aside. “Air samples, as you know, take next to no time to record, and don't keep anyway. And we have long established that most sentient life forms would be better off not being recorded unless they reach out to us first, so I fail to understand why you would chide me for not actively seeking them out. Of course sentient, telepathic mud would be a novel life form that I would be delighted to discover, as would you, and don't try to pretend otherwise.”

“And the superfluous collectibles?” Feuilly asked, ignoring that last, entirely factual observation.

“Are for Jehan and Joly,” Combeferre confirmed. He squelched his way back out of the muck, sighing a little as the substance left stains on his biosuit. As a rule Combeferre did not tend towards vanity in his dress, but he did generally attempt neatness. He was, however, practical about the hazards of his profession, and shrugged off the stain after a moment's contemplation. “Also the muck's highly acidic, in case you were curious.”

Suggesting that Combeferre not sound quite so pleased by this discovery would be a waste of air, so Feuilly did not voice the thought. He did, however, inch slightly closer, peering at the puddle curiously. Combeferre, catching this, laughed. “Do we have any acid-resistant sample tubes?” he asked.

They did. Feuilly handed one over. Combeferre filled it with purple muck and stashed it carefully in his pack, then turned to look at Feuilly once more. “Shall we proceed?” he asked. “I heard something coming from deeper in the forest that I want to investigate.”

The man knew Feuilly entirely too well. With only token protests that these diversions were eventually going to cost both of them their jobs, Feuilly fell into step with his friend, pushing deeper into the alien forest in search of whatever the planet had to offer.

* * *

Upon their eventual return to the Necker Science Exploration Center, orbiting above the capital planet of the Marianne system, Feuilly found himself ordered to report to the director. This last, a former explorer herself, waited until they were alone with the sound proof barriers surrounding the room fully engaged and then asked mildly, “Would you care to explain why your recent mission took nearly a week longer than scheduled, used up a quarter of your reserve fuel tank, and yet reported neither adverse encounters nor remarkable discoveries?”

“No, Director,” Feuilly said.

“No?”

“No. Everything there is to say was included in the report I submitted upon our return, as per center protocol.”

The director looked at him for a long moment then shook her head. “You know,” she said, “when you were assigned as the government liaison to the _Esoterica_ , it was in order to prevent this very misuse of government funds, not enable it.”

“I don't know what you mean, Director,” Feuilly said. “We were sent to explore, and that is precisely what we did. Should we have been less thorough in our research, or to risked missing vital data for the sake of saving funds?”

She considered this, examining him once more, and then smiled ever so slightly. “I don't know what you did to end up here,” she said, “but we are glad to have you on board. Dismissed.” He started for the door, then paused as she added, “And next time? Remember to take into account the weight of extra samples when putting in your initial fuel requests rather than relying on your backup tanks.”

“Yes, Director,” Feuilly said, and left the room.

 


End file.
